


It Don't Mean a Thing...

by ladyjax



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Female Character of Color, Public Sex, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjax/pseuds/ladyjax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after winning Dancing with The Stars, Derek and Amber meet in New York City. There's dancing. And other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Don't Mean a Thing...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV (The Ides of Porn). Prompts: One year later, in plain sight, public sex. For entertainment purposes only.

A year out from their win and Derek’s taken up choreography almost full time which means a lot of travel and living out of suitcases. Amber calls him when he arrives in New York. “You’ve got meetings and I’m filming so we’re both going to be crazy busy this week,” she says. “Let’s go dancing.”

It’s easy to say yes when she calls; just two friends going out and having a good time. Just as it’s easy to for him to brush his lips across hers after they’d burned up the dance floor.

Kissing Amber hadn't originally been on the agenda. Neither had ending up in an out of the way corner with Derek on his knees with his hands traveling up Amber’s legs and under the hem of her dress. If the tremor in the thigh hooked over his shoulder is an indication, Derek is pretty sure they’re on the same page. He presses his hand over her covered pussy and groans as her heel presses into his back.

What a difference a year makes.

Amber tugs his hair and he looks up. “People can see us,” she frets, her voice barely able to be heard over the thumping bass line of the music.

“And?” Derek slides his free hand up to her ass to pull her in closer and tightens his grip. “What are they gonna see, baby? You’re just showing me how much you remember from the show.” He kisses her inner thigh then bites lightly. Her growl tells him just how much she’s enjoying what he’s doing.

Derek pulls the crotch of her lace panties aside just enough so he can slick a finger over her wet folds. He licks it and her taste explodes over his tongue – salty sweet, just like her.

“Jesus,” Amber yanks hard on his hair even as her hips roll forward. “Boy, you have made me blaspheme.” She can’t see his smirk and Derek knows she’d slap him six ways from Sunday if she did. It’d be worth it though because she’s so undone and he’s the cause.

Derek pushes his face into her pussy and gives her a long slow lick then plunges his tongue deep inside of her, fucking his tongue in and out of her hole with abandon. He digs his fingers into her ass as he moves to her clit, circling it, tugging it before licking up one side of her cunt then down the other.

“Fuck, fuck…Derek, damn you…” Amber voice trails off into a choking sob and she’s got her fingers wound into his hair so tight it hurts but he’s going to make her come right here and right now even if it kills him. He moves back to her clit and sucks, twisting his tongue around it and pulling, bringing his hand around and shoving a finger deep inside of her. He’s already hard and practically leaking in his jeans but that wet clench nearly sends Derek over the edge. He curls that finger just enough to provide a counterpoint to what he’s doing with his tongue and he feels the tremor that rolls from deep inside her cunt until it’s over taken everything. Another finger and Amber is coming all over Derek’s hand, her leg practically hitched around his neck now to keep her balance.

He licks and licks up all of that sweet nectar that coats her upper thighs, leaving nothing behind but warm, damp skin. The aftershocks have barely subsided when he gets to his feet, straightening her hem just so before he slides his arms around her waist and rests his forehead against hers.

Amber’s thumb swipes across his lips before her fingers curl beneath his chin to tug him forward. When they kiss this time, it’s slow and easy. “You’re a bad, bad man, Derek Hough,” she says when they pull back. “What am I going to do with you?”

Derek smiles and takes her hand. “Order room service when we’re done. Let's go.”


End file.
